whale bones and empty lives turned full
by edeabeth
Summary: (university days) Foggy decides to fill Matt's life with all sorts of things-toy store visits, decorations and thanksgiving dinner.


whale bones and emptied lives turned full

.

His roommate doesn't keep many items, which is something that irks Foggy. He understands of course why Matt wouldn't be pinning up posters the way other students on the floor had, or bothered decorating the door. It had become a common enough trend to invest in a white board to stick on the door to the dorm room with little doodles and notes decorating the blank surface. Matt however is the embodiment of the idea of Spartan.

He doesn't keep anything with him. He has his braille textbooks and a box crammed beneath his bed. His clothing is bland and dark, which probably keeps him from clashing patterns, and his sheets are silk. Foggy can't find anything to his new roommate but sheer blankness.

He's friendly enough but cautious. It takes three visits down to the coffee shop on campus before he carefully touches Foggy's elbow and uses him to direct him through the crowd of students desperate for caffeine.

So Foggy vows one morning as he glances as the emptied bookshelves and sparse closet to chance things.

.

"So I was thinking we should go to Miss. Tiggy Winkles," Foggy said bluntly. "As a study break. They had awesome mugs that I've been meaning to get."

Matt raised a brow as he leaned backwards in his desk chair, hands falling away from the text placed in front of him. "What do you need mugs for? You have like five."

He waved a hand pointlessly at his roommate, "forgive me for saying, Matthew, but these mugs are excellent. When heat is applied, they change colour. I feel like everyone needs one. Even you."

"I have a mug!"

Foggy grabbed his wallet from the drawer of his desk and reached over for his jacket slung over the side of his bed from where he had thrown it previously. "Exactly. A mug. A bland mug. What if you have a lady friend over, and she decides that she'd appreciate a cup of tea? Are you going to offer her a boring eggshell white mug? Have some decency, man."

"You're actually serious about this."

"Serious as I've ever been."

.

The trip finds them standing in front of a rack of little plastic animals. The selection is vast, from penguins to hedgehogs. Matt is transfixed as he slowly feels each one, fingers wandering over the rough edges and feeling for the smooth pieces. "This is a leopard seal," Foggy informed him as he placed the twentieth one in the palm of Matt's hand. "Damn! They got dinosaurs!"

Matt furrowed his brow as he accepted the new toy. "What else is there?"

"There are dogs, but you hate dogs, rabbits, some whales-"

"Whales," he interrupted.

"So demanding, aren't we?" Foggy smirked as he ducked to snatch up the options from near the bottom of the display racks. "Wanna feel the dolphins and sharks?"

Matt shrugged as he carefully placed the leopard seal on the ledge amongst the other rejects. "Dolphins."

Eventually they do leave the store, Foggy carrying a bag filled to the brim with whales, Rubik cubes and two mugs. One turned from yellow to blue and the other turned from black to red once hot liquid would be added. Matt confidently reached out for his arm as they crossed the street, cane hitting the ground in a more happy manner.

.

Foggy finds Matt lying on his back playing with a Rubik cube absent mindedly, a look of frustration stamped across his face. "Rough day?" He asked hesitantly as he slowly shut the door behind him. He carried a plastic bag that rustled against his side.

"Am I close?" He asked as he held the cube up. Matt had taken to fiddling with the thing when he felt anxious or annoyed and since then had purchased three more. One always stayed within easy reach of either the bed or his desk, the other always in his bag and the final one remained with Foggy.

Foggy didn't dare hesitate when he saw the mash of colours held up for him. "Absolutely. Wanna talk about it?"

He slowly sat up and leaned against his pillow. "Textbook company." He grimaced as he pointed in the direction of his desk to a book that was definitely not braille. "Said that they were unable to translate it and perhaps I shouldn't be pursuing law."

"They can go fuck themselves," Foggy shrugged. "We're in the same class. We can work together. I'll read out the readings to you and you can type them into that braille thingy, and aces all around." He set the bag down on his bed and grinned as the noise caught Matt's attention. "I figured we should decorate our door."

Matt grimaced. "You buy a whiteboard?"

"Better!" Foggy said as he began pulling out pieces of fabric from the door. "Come here and see for yourself."

His roommate crossed the room and stuck his hand in the direction of the mess of things on his bed. "What is this?"

"Felt, cloth, lace-I mean, the lace is a little girly but my mom said it'd have a cool feel."

.

The door is a terrible mash of fabric. Unflattering pink felt is taped next to a gingham piece of fabric. Lace is wrapped around the door handle, and within the hour spent piecing the abstract design together they had eventually covered the entire space.

.

Eventually Matt reveals the little box beneath his bed, a wrestling uniform scarlet and loud. "It's red so you wouldn't be able to see blood." He said quietly as he traced his hand over the name sewn into the costume.

.

Thanksgiving sucks, Foggy realizes as he packs his bags while Matt sits hunched over his desk with a killer whale figurine grasped in his hand. He's spent the past five minutes packing shirts and his toothbrush and trying to cram in his textbooks to the mess that is his backpack. So he doesn't hesitate.

"You not packing?" He asked Matt.

He shrugged. "Definitely not going back to the orphanage."

"Who said anything about an orphanage?" Foggy frowned, because while he knew a brief overview of Matt's past (including the dick head named Stick. The goddamn man could choke for the way he abandoned Matt.) "You're coming home with me."

He's caught him off guard and a very large part of him is very proud of such a feat. Matt jerks his head up and swivels around to look towards him. "What?"

"Dude, my family is your family. Like, it'll be crowded and a lot of people, so I totally get it if it's overwhelming." Foggy said as he clutched a textbook to his chest. "It's nothing special but everyone gets together for this. My mom said you could come. Not that I'd care if she said you couldn't, I would still bring you kicking and screaming if I had to."

"You want me?"

"Dude, I am your wingman. The Robin to your Batman. Buddies, remember all this? Come on, pack."

.

The small little apartment is filled with people. Foggy had texted his mother in the taxi informing her Matt would be coming and to keep cool about it. Music is kept lower than usual and furniture looks like it was adjusted to make as much space as possible.

"Franklin!" His mom grins at him from the kitchen where she stands surrounded by his aunts. "And Matthew!"

Three little cousins run by in the direction of his bedroom which he cringes at. "Ella, you keep them out of my things!" He calls out to the older girl of the three. He imagines his comics torn to pieces.

His mother yanks of the apron and slips through the crowd of people to greet them. "I'm so glad you were able to come, Matthew." She ignores his offered hand and instead embraces him rather freely. For a brief second he stiffened before returning the hug. "Franklin, have you been eating? You look far too thin." She said as she looked over his form. "And for God's sake, you need a haircut."

"Thank you for having me," Matt grins before turning to Foggy. "So, Franklin? And here you were telling me all along that your name was really Foggy."

"It sounds cooler, man." He sighed before grabbing Matt's arm and slowly pulling him through the swarm of people. "Lemme know if this gets too much. Seriously. I know you like being all macho, but I'd rather you not start twitching."

"It's like you don't even trust me," he gasped in mock horror as he was guided through the small living room.

.

Matt sits beside him at the table with a plate filled with food right in front of him. His mother sits across, sandwiched by a younger cousin and his uncle. The smaller table is detached from the larger table where the rest of the family is crammed around. Foggy quickly lists off the position of food on his plate before leaving Matt to his food.

"So, you wanna be a lawyer?" His uncle said bluntly as he twists the cap off his beer. "Is that what you said, Foggy?"

Matt nodded. "My dad always said that he'd rather that I used my head to fight. Being a lawyer is the best way to do that, I think."

"What does your dad do?" Foggy cringes at the question and so does his mother, having heard enough details-the wrestling, the accident, the orphanage. A brief overview of the mystery that is Matt's past. "He working today?"

"I'm afraid not. He died when I was younger." Matt's tone is blunt, mimicking his Uncle's in a slightly defensive way.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles before taking a swing of his beer.

"So. Have you discovered what a little ray of sunshine Franklin is in the morning?" His mother jumps into the conversation with a bright smile. Matt can't help but give a small smile back, hearing the friendly enthusiasm in her tone.

Foggy snorted. "You think I'm bad?"

"I'm really not that bad," Matt cut in as he raised his hands. "Don't believe him."

"You threw your Rubik cube at me when I tried to wake you up."

.

Matt forces Foggy to sleep in the bed, ignoring his protests that he couldn't let a blind man rough it out on the ground. His agreement had cut him off at the knees and forced him to allow Matt to claim the air mattress.

"I'm not going to let my best friend give up his bed."

Those words make him grin like a damn idiot.


End file.
